I'm not a cat
by Not Just a Nerd
Summary: In which Selina Kyle tries to pet Bruce Wayne to sleep like he's a cat. One-shot. Fluff. Bruce x Selina.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Gotham or any of the characters.**

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><p>Here's the thing. She knows why she's here. She's here because she's the witness to the Wayne murders. They're gonna catch the guy who did it (<em>Dream on, Jimmy<em>), and she's gonna help put him behind the bars. And sure, he's a nice enough guy and he's gonna try his best to keep her safe like he promised. But here's the thing. She's spent enough time on the streets, alone and scared, fierce and fighting for her life to know how this cold cruel world really is. She knows how it will really go if the police for once manage to do the impossible. Once she's done with her testimony, she's just another street kid who'd most probably be sent back to Juvie.

And that's why Selina Kyle has no plans of sticking around long enough for that to happen. She's here, for now, safe and not hungry for a change. But she'll be out soon. Oh, she'll be out _very_ soon.

With her cat-like super reflexes, she moves around the Wayne Manor deep in the middle of the night, half expecting the creepy paintings on the wall to start talking- half wondering if she should be an art thief when she grows up or if she should just burn the hideous things. She carefully observes the expensive things in the house, contemplating which ones are not needed by them and which ones won't be noticed missing till a long time passes. She pockets something swiftly and quickly moves on to the living room.

That's when she sees him. The boy detective. Sitting on the couch, with dozens of files spread on the table in front of him. A surge of guilt hits him when she realizes he's working so hard to get his parents justice and she's just gonna bail on him. _Don't go soft now, Cat, _she mentally warns herself.

She steps in closer, undetected (_he'd be *such* a great detective, yeah_), and notices that he's just staring blankly at the walls now, lost in thoughts, with some emotion in his eyes that she finds very familiar but can't quite put a finger on.

"I thought you were smart", she suddenly says.

Bruce startles, twisting his body to the side to face the sudden apparition. "I'm-I'm sorry?" He asks, confused.

Usually, she prefers sitting in front of him just to relish the looks on his face when she tortures him with their verbal dual. But tonight, for some reason (_don't go soft, damn it), _she decides to sit beside him. "Not getting any sleep will not get you any closer to catching the guy."

He knows she's right, but he doesn't know what else to do either. He's tried sleeping, and he's always woken up with nightmares. In some of them, his parents die, in a hundred different ways, in others, it's him, and in yet others that he can't quite remember when he wakes up, something horrible happens. But he's not ready to talk about it. "You're up too." He says instead.

She scoffs. "I sleep during the day."

It's quite for a while, with none of them saying anything. And the silence is for some reason comfortable. It is Bruce who speaks first. "When I was a kid and I couldn't sleep, my mum used to sing me a lullaby."

"Oh", Selina simply says, not knowing what else to say, never heard a lullaby and not being so good at consoling people, even when she feels empathetic.

"Do you know any lullaby?" Bruce asks suddenly.

"I'm not your mother", Selina answers reflexively, and then her eyes soften (_damn it, softness will kill the cat, remember that). _"Lie down ", she says, patting the space next to where she's seated.

"What?" He asks, confused. (_Is he always this confused?) _

"Let me try something else", she simply says.

And for some reason he trusts her enough to not question her further. He lies down on the couch on his back and closes his eyes. For the time being, the horrid images don't rush to him all at once, and he's thankful for that.

Then he feels her hand on his hair, surprisingly soft and silky, he mentally notes, and relaxes. And then she does this thing that he can't quite put into words. She…. s_cratches_ his hair. The same way one would pet a cat. It feels…. _weird. _

"I'm not a cat", he protests immediately.

She laughs. She doesn't know what else to do. Sure, she's had her fair share of time with the orphans, but nobody looks after anybody on the streets and the only thing she ever pets _are _cats. "Sorry, let me try again", she says, sincerely, and this time, she gently runs her fingers through his hair.

Bruce relaxes, the motion of her hands surprisingly comforting, her presence cheering him up as usual. He doesn't really realize when he falls asleep, but when he wakes up, he thinks he was dreaming of a cat. _Or something_.

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><p><strong>AN: This plot bunny is stolen from my real life with good faith that my best friend will never find this and kill me. xD reviews would be great. Thanks for reading :D **


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